Unexpected Nights
by grittywords
Summary: Emma and Regina can't sleep, for completely different reasons. What happens when their new nightly routines bring them together in the most unexpected ways? T now, M later
1. Routines

Emma Swan doesn't sleep.

Correction, Emma Swan doesn't sleep well _alone_. Of course, the people that know her well don't know this fact. They think she's grown up rough, independent. She can take care of herself. They think she's the kind of girl that does fine sleeping in her little banged up Bug.

But they're wrong. Emma Swan doesn't sleep well alone at all.

After getting out of the foster system, when she met Neal, she finally slept well for the first time in what felt like her entire life. The comfort it brought her was unprecedented. But after he split and she went to jail, her restless nights became the norm. On nights when it became unbearable, she started running.

A little after midnight, Emma strode out of Mary Margaret's building and meandered down the street, taking in the cold night air that kicked the drowsiness from her head. Summer is right around the corner, but the nights are playing tricks on the day and Emma's thin sweat pants and white tank top don't do much for chill. But she just lets it roll off her back with the wind and keeps walking. It's a walk she's done many times since coming to Storybrooke. After rounding the corner into the main square, she roughly runs her fingers through her ratty blonde locks and piles them on top of her head, securing them with the hair band that's always around her wrist.

She takes a deep breath and begins her run.

Emma strides out, her long legs taking leaps on the pavement that continuously moves below her trainers. She sprints down the street towards the edge of town, counting the pounding of her footsteps.

Regina Mills doesn't sleep, either.

As in, she doesn't sleep at all. Since Emma Swan came into her life, Regina Mills has been a full fledged insomniac. She used to be a woman who prided herself on being able to sleep in any situation. The second her head hit her pillow, she'd be fast asleep. But now, now all she sees when she closes her eyes is Emma's flickering green eyes and the bright smile that is constantly mocking her. She's tried everything from booze to sleeping pills, to no avail.

So instead of sleeping, Regina Mills reads until she can see the sun coming up over the trees from her perch on her front stoop.

After putting Henry to bed, she went about her usual routine, cleaning up after the boy and changing into something that she would never, ever be seen wearing in public.

Regina tip-toes past her son's room and into her own, unbuttoning her still crispy white blouse in the process. Running a lazy hand through her hair, she makes a note to herself that she likes it at a longer length. It makes her think of her youthful days of braids and ribbons. An innocence lost.

After ridding herself of the impossible heels and skintight skirt and the black lacey bra that itched in all the wrong places, Regina slips into most comfortable yoga pants and a thin red tank top in the shade of her favorite lipstick.

In the bathroom, she smears the layers of makeup off her face, revealing a flawless complexion and youthful bright eyes. She even goes to the extreme of sweeping her hair off her neck into a little ponytail, even though little pieces fell from it down into her face. Regina smiles at her reflection, strangely content for the moment.

She knits her eyebrows together and then arches them high, ending the act by sticking her tongue out at herself. Boy, does she look like a piece of work. But she takes comfort in the fact that no one would be strolling around Storybrooke at midnight on a Tuesday. With one finger she flicks the medicine cabinet open and picks her spare reading glasses out of their case and slides them up her nose.. She stares at herself with the black rims on and realizes that she almost looks unrecognizable. Deep down inside, she feels herself relax into this new role of sorts.

Her insomnia was giving her an alter ego.

Grabbing a few pillows from the love seat in the family room and a throw, she heads out the front door with an old ratty copy of Madame Bovary with her hidden packs of cigarrettes under her arm, closing the door quietly as she goes.


	2. Slow Burn

Chapter 2: Slow Burn

Emma was in full sprint mode, her brain furiously trying to keep up with the pace her legs are going at. She likes it this way. She can escape from the weirdness of Storybrooke and let her mind wander where it may. Tonight she's running faster because all she can think about it Mayor Regina Mills.

They hate each other, or so it seems. Emma knows she should stay away from her and stop causing so much trouble, but she can't seem to stop herself. She even knows she likes a challenge, but even with her there's usually a limit. Evidently not when it comes to Regina. Every time she sees the woman, she can't help but spout off some smart ass comment, instigating some of the worst arguments she's ever had in her life.

Like last week in Regina's office. Emma had come flying into the office, blazing mad about the new mayoral office mandated uniforms for the Storybrooke Police Station. They were tan, khaki and hideous and there was no way that Emma was trading her sexy red leather for standard issue uniforms from hell. They had screamed and yelled until they were hoarse and Regina had ordered her away. Of course, they had accomplished nothing but creating new ways to say 'bitch' and 'fuck' within a sentence structure.

And yet again, Emma left mad and feeling the most turned on she ever had in her entire life.

While pounding down the next block, her nose picked up a peculiar smell of a habit she had rid herself of years before. Cigarette smoke.

She slowed to a walk and tried to control her panting, wiping the sheen of sweat off her brow and slapping her hands on her hipbones. The further she walked, the stronger the smell got.

Then it dawned on her. The hedges belonged to Regina. The front path belong to Regina. The mansion and the door belonged to Regina. And that was most certainly Regina sitting on her stoop half covered in a blanket, book in one hand, cigarette in the other, glasses perched on her edge of her nose, her face clean of the usual makeup.

Emma's mouth fell open.

"Regina?" she called out, not quite recognizing the rasp coming out from between her lips.

Regina looked up over her glasses, seemingly unfazed by Emma's appearance at midnight in her front lawn. She flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette and brought it to her lips for a long drag before settling her stare on Emma's sweaty body.

"Miss Swan," she said smoothly. "Out creating raucous in the middle of the night again, are we?"

Emma scoffed and opened her mouth to sass back, but nothing came out. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Emma felt a warmth build deep in her belly and a flush creep up onto her sweaty cheeks. That same flush that she had been managing to avoid during all their other altercations. Emma couldn't help but stare wide eyed at this new version of Mayor Mills. She obviously wasn't expecting any company, and now Emma was there, halfway up the front path to her house, staring like a loon.

"Miss Swan, do I need to call the sheriff and have her arrest you for trespassing?"

And then Regina smirked and took another drag on her cigarette, then stubbed it out on the step in front of her. Only then did Emma realize the very large glass of red wine sitting behind the Mayor. And the glasses perched on the end of her nose that made her look very, very, sexy. Very hot teacher. Very hot mayor. Very hot Regina and before Emma could stop herself, she was walking up to the stoop and dropping down on that same step in front of Regina, swinging herself sideways and propping herself against the white column.

"Shut up, Regina," Emma teased from her own lips. The flush deepened. "I didn't know you smoked."

"Old vice. I expect you know a thing about that, don't you?"

"Yep."

Emma rolled her eyes, and if it didn't feel so good to be sitting down, she would've gotten up and make a dramatic exit. Regina slipped her hand under the throw and produced a beat up pack of cigarettes and slid them open, holding them out to Emma.

For the first time that night, Emma looked into Regina's face and smiled big. The vibes Regina was sending off, for once, weren't malicious. They were remotely friendly. Emma thought about it, after all there was no one around to see them being nice to each other. They were shrouded in the darkness of night, a time when they were both used to being vulnerable.

Emma took the cigarette and leaned forward when Regina produced a book of matches between her manicured fingers. The mayor struck one and Emma cupped her hands around the tiny flame, the edges of her palms brushing against the tops of Regina's hands.

"Thanks," Emma breathed out.

"I thought you might."

"Might what?"

Regina laughed deeply in her throat and tilted her head down to look over her glasses at Emma.

"Have some old vices," she continued with a delicately arched eyebrow.

"Yeah well, it looks like you're not as high and mighty as you seem either, Madame Mayor," Emma replied, surprised at how easy the teasing banter was flowing between them.

And then they sat there, staring at each other's alter ego for as long as they could take it.

The last thing Regina expected to encounter that night was Emma. Any other time, she would've banished the woman from her property, yelling at her all the way. But this Emma that appeared in from of her was different. It was the same image of Emma that had been appearing behind her eyes as she tried to sleep. Sweaty with sparkly eyes and a wide honest smile. It haunted her and now her dream had become a real vision.

Of course it had, Regina sassed inside her head. Not one to admit weakness though, she rolled her eyes to herself. Maybe she wasn't the only one that felt like a different person in the middle of the night. For once, she submitted to the thoughts in her head and smiled at Emma.

"You run?"

"Only at night."

"Can't sleep?"

"Nope."

Beat.

"Me either."

And with that, Regina pulled out another cigarette and lit it, picked up her book and continued reading. Emma stretched out her legs and crossed her ankles and watched how the ends of their cigarettes burned so similarly in the dimness of the front porch light.


	3. An Aftermath

3.

The pair sat there all through the night, easily pushing their way through another bottle of wine and the rest of Regina's cigarettes. For the first time in their 'relationship', if it can be called that, they just let easy thoughts slip out into the space between them. Most of the time was spent in silence, but when they did speak, they spoke about things that were irrelevant to their lives. Regina explained how the stars sometime align and make really special things happen across the universe. Emma told Regina facts about different kinds of field grasses that she had learned about in some random book she found in her closet in Boston. It was easy.

At some point during the night, Emma had shifted around on the porch, her head precariously close to Regina's lap, and had dozed off. Regina kept muttering to herself, her nose still shoved in the book she had read a dozen times before, and it took her a while before she even realized that Emma had dozed off.

Regina looked around at the mess they had made that was scattered around them in an uneven circle. Two wineglasses, the remaining dribbles of purple liquid dried to the edges and the bottoms. Cigarette butts filled the tiny ashtray she had retrieved from hiding. Emma's shoes and socks that had been cast aside shortly after sitting down. And then of course, the very familiar blonde that was now so close to her, breathing steadily, her long hair falling in front of her eyes.

Without thinking much about it, Regina smiled and reached down and brushed the hair clear of Emma's face. The blonde grinned in her sleep and reached up, grabbed Regina hand in her own and squeezed it, then let it go.

That simple gesture, for reasons unknown, made Regina's heart start beating hard and fast and strangely enough, it made her smile. It made her breathe a little easier as a reminder that her heart was still firmly planted in her chest, and was her own to give away to whoever she was to choose.

But all things like that come to an end, and Regina shifted a bit too hard, shifting Emma in the process, waking the sleeping princess from her deep sleep she had so quickly fallen under.

"Aw shit…."a muffled grown came slipping from Emma's lips. "I did _not_ mean to fall asleep like that. I'm sorry."

Regina slipped her glasses off her nose and massaged the marks away, chuckling.

"You were only out for ten minutes, dear. Hardly a crime."

Silence enveloped them again as Emma sat up, the bones in her back slightly cracking with the movements of her body. Both women's thoughts drifted to what had transpired between them over the past few hours. The words spoken almost had a sacred, secret feel to them. No one would know, because neither woman would tell a soul. Some thoughts were left on the porch, some were taken with both Emma and Regina as they went their separate ways when the air around them started to give the tell tale signs that the morning was soon to arrive.

Henry would be up soon, as would the town. Then they would go about their lives as two scorned women that couldn't stand the sight of each other.

Emma shoved herself to her feet, stretching and rubbing her ass where the porch had seemingly left a permanent indent on her tailbone. Slowly they picked up the mess, and Emma shoved her socks down in her shoes and tied the laces together, slinging them over her shoulder.

Regina paused and turned around, her hand on the front door knob.

"You're really going to walk back barefoot?"

Emma laughed, her eyes twinkling and her mouth open, head thrown back. Lack of sleep creeping into her brain cells, making her slightly delirious.

"Well, I like to take a little stroll in my bare feet, Madame Mayor. I doubt your little toes have ever felt grass or dirt between them."

Regina quickly scanned her brain for any instance of the act, and came up empty, the traces of vulnerability floating across her face as she faced Emma.

"If you want to contract whatever the hell diseases you can get from tromping around without shoes, be my guest Miss Swan."

"You should try it sometime. I promise it's nothing like you've ever experienced."

"I highly doubt I'll be taking part in that act, Sherriff."

Emma sighed, recognizing the Regina she knew so well bleeding through the Mayor's newly revealed side.

"Goodnight, Regina."

Emma let her smile fall and she turned to trot off down the path, detouring through the Mayor's yard. The dewy grass slipped between her toes and for a moment, she was content with the chill it sent up her spine. It made her feel young, fresh and very much alive.

"Good Morning, Emma…" Regina whispered, and then she slipped inside and flicked off the porch light, submerging Emma into the early morning darkness that comes before the light.


End file.
